She nodded, fiddling with a strap bracelet on her left wrist. It was black with thin green lines in a random rectangular-like pattern. I rarely saw her without it.

“Are we friends?” she asked, never looking up from her bracelet.

My chest puffed at the question. At the hope in her tone.

“Think that depends on you, Pixie.”

She snapped her eyes to mine. “Why?”

I gazed at her, my eyes drawing from hers to her hair to the line of her jaw, the racing pulse at her neck, and back to her eyes. “Because,” I said. “I already trust you.”

“How?” she asked. “This is the first time we’ve hung out beyond school…ever.”

“Easy,” I said. “DC.”

“Our alert code?” She chuckled. “That’s all it takes to earn your trust? Me giving you a heads-up when someone is about to catch you hacking instead of doing actual schoolwork?”

“It’s not the only factor, but it’s a big one.”

“What are the others?”

I wetted my lips, grinning when the motion caught her gaze. “Too many to list.”

She raised her brows. “Well,” she said, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn’t figure out what to say.

“It’s okay, Pixie,” I said, stopping her before she could speak. “I know it’ll take a hell of a lot more for me to earn your trust. To earn a spot in your circle. And I’m fine with that. I’m just asking for a chance.”

She swallowed hard. “As friends.”

The knife in my heart was sharp, but a good reminder that was all I needed, too.

“Friends.”

A soft smile shaped her pink lips, and she gathered both our empty trays, standing to take them to the trash before I could argue.

My cell buzzed with notifications, enough that I gave the screen a quick swipe.

Sabrina, resident Queen of Wilmont, had blasted a new blog across the social media feeds. I hadn’t realized she was linked with mine.

“Ask Me Anything,” I read aloud, my brow furrowing as I scanned the main page. A sex advice blog? From a Wilmont student. Person had balls, I’d give them that, and I idly wondered if whoever had pulled the prank at the assembly was the same one behind this.

“So I—” Amber’s words died in her throat, her eyes flashing wide when she caught sight of my screen.

“You see this, too?” I asked, pocketing my phone. She hadn’t moved to sit back down. I shifted in the booth, looking up at her, my arm easily stretched to one side on the booth railing, practically begging her to slide in next to me. The way she trailed her gaze over me, the way that sweet blush crept in her cheeks, it almost seemed like she could read my mind.